


Sonata Form

by Lusern



Category: Given (Anime), Given (Manga)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Manga Spoilers, gratuitous cuddling, pathetic attempts at musical metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusern/pseuds/Lusern
Summary: 3.5 small stories about Mafuyu and Uenoyama's growing relationship.
Relationships: Satou Mafuyu/Uenoyama Ritsuka
Comments: 8
Kudos: 233





	1. Exposition

* * *

_“That clock… is the same as the one at Yuki’s.”_

Mafuyu wasn’t certain why he said it. He wasn’t sure why, of all things, that particular memory stood out so clearly. It was just a plain white clock. There were probably thousands of clocks just like it.

How many moments had passed between them, counted out by the ticking of that clock?

The thought just made him feel like crying.

Mafuyu didn’t realize right away that he’d said the words out loud. He hadn’t noticed Uenoyama move, and he hadn’t heard what it was that he’d said; he could just feel Uenoyama’s body, warm and firm and almost painfully close.

It was too much to try to understand, the emotion in his heart and the feeling in his body and the meaning of Uenoyama’s words. His mind felt like it was operating on a lag: the words came into focus first, and then the physical sensations.

The emotions only ever came into focus with the music.

_“I don’t know much about your past…”_

Didn’t Uenoyama know everything?

And then he remembered: _I haven’t ever told him._

Uenoyama could only know what their classmates knew: that he and Yuki had been dating, and then Yuki had died. There was no way for him to know anything else that had happened between them. Exactly what he and Yuki had been to each other. What had torn them apart. Mafuyu kept it all inside him.

And Uenoyama had accepted him anyway. 

Uenoyama hadn’t known that Mafuyu was broken, that half of him was missing, that a vital piece of him had been torn out. Uenoyama had just been kind to him, in his own gruff way. Had taught him how to play guitar, asked him to join his band, encouraged him to sing. Agreed to be his boyfriend, even though they were in the same band, which was apparently a bad thing.

No one could replace Yuki in his heart. But because of Uenoyama, Mafuyu had begun to realize that he was a whole person on his own, not half of one. He had spent so much time letting others speak for him while Uenoyama encouraged him to sing for himself. He could rely on Uenoyama, feel his kindness and support, but he didn’t feel that to lose him would render him mute, like it had when Yuki died. 

And then there was the way Uenoyama embraced him, so tightly it felt like he might snap in two. Uenoyama had hugged him every other time he had cried in front of him—which was more often than Mafuyu wished to admit—but never like this. It had always felt protective, like Uenoyama was trying to shield him from whatever was causing him pain. But this time he hid his face in Mafuyu’s shoulder, like he was the one who needed comfort and reassurance. And all he wanted was to know that Mafuyu didn’t feel alone.

He had depended on Uenoyama for so many things. And what had he given back?

_There’s just too much._

It felt like his thoughts and emotions were crashing over him in waves now, each more confusing than the last. He didn’t know how to communicate any of it to Uenoyama. He only really understood enough to raise his hand to Uenoyama’s back and attempt to embrace him in return. He didn’t realize that his own body was still stiff, that his face was still blank, that he hadn’t spoken a word—until Uenoyama stood up again, his warmth vanishing from Mafuyu’s skin.

He watched as Uenoyama reached up and pulled the clock off the wall, and then removed the battery from the back and shut it in his desk. 

“Is that better?”

Mafuyu blinked. Had it really been about the clock? That didn’t seem right. But, somehow, it was easier without its sharp, persistent ticking. He nodded.

“Good.” Uenoyama turned back toward his own bed.

Mafuyu grabbed at Uenoyama’s pant leg, making him stop.

“Huh?” Uenoyama looked down at him with surprise. “What’s wrong?”

Mafuyu just tugged more firmly, afraid of what would happen if he opened his mouth.

“Mafuyu…?” Uenoyama sighed. “Do you want me to stay next to you?”

Mafuyu nodded, grateful that he understood.

“Okay,” Uenoyama said, clearly trying to sound confident but looking nervous anyway. It was really rather cute. “I don’t want to sleep on the floor, though, so you should move up here.”

And that was how he came to be lying in Uenoyama’s bed, his head resting on Uenoyama’s shoulder and Uenoyama’s arms secured around his back, feeling truly at peace for the first time in recent memory. Mafuyu had kissed him softly on the cheek before whispering good night. It had seemed to make Uenoyama nervous, at first, judging by the time it took him to get settled; but now he was soundly asleep, his breath warm in Mafuyu’s ear. He placed his hand over Uenoyama’s heart to feel it beat, slow and steady. A rhythm far more comforting than the lifeless ticking of a clock.

A feeling surged in him, one that—for once—he was certain he knew the words for.

He would save them for another time. Uenoyama wouldn’t be able to hear them now, anyway.


	2. Development

* * *

Uenoyama stood outside Mafuyu’s bedroom door, uncertain of how or even if to announce his presence. He glanced at the text conversation on his phone even though he had the image well memorized, as he’d been staring at it for most of his journey here.

_ i’m sick so i’m not going to make rehearsal today _

_ Do you want me to come over? _

_ u don’t have to _

_ Is your mom working today? _

_ yeah _

_ I’ll come over, then.  _

_ ok :)  _ _ i might be asleep though. The door’s unlocked, you should just come in. _

_ Got it. _

And he had let himself in the front door, no problem, holding a convenience store bag full of soup and crackers which he had confidently stored in the kitchen, had made it all the way to the hallway outside Mafuyu’s bedroom—and now felt uncertain.

Mafuyu liked him. They were dating. It shouldn’t have made him nervous. And yet somehow it did, just like the first time he had been to Mafuyu’s home.

Ah. That was it. It was reminding him of  _ that _ time. Right after the live show when they’d first kissed. Right before he and Mafuyu had confessed to each other. When everything had been uncertain and confusing.

It had been months, and yet somehow it still didn’t feel quite real.

Uenoyama took a deep breath. He knocked gently, two soft raps.

“Mafuyu? I’m coming in.”

All of his worrying was for nothing, because Mafuyu was quite soundly asleep. He didn’t stir when Uenoyama walked in, nor when he called his name again, nor when he brought his hand to his forehead to check his temperature and make sure he was still breathing.

“Why does it seem like whenever a cold goes around at school, you always get the most sick?” Uenoyama asked, running his fingers through Mafuyu’s pillow-mussed hair. 

Mafuyu, of course, didn’t answer. His chest continued to rise and fall but his forehead felt chilled, along with the rest of his skin. He shivered when Uenoyama pulled his hand away.

Uenoyama sighed. “You didn’t even think to get yourself enough blankets before you passed out?”

The thick wool blanket he found in the closet and the knitted one he found in the living room weren’t enough to make the shivering stop. Mafuyu remained curled up under his cocoon of blankets, skin still cool.

Uenoyama sighed again. He laid himself down on Mafuyu’s bed, wondering what his mother would think if she were to walk in on them. He didn’t get under the pile of blankets, since he was fairly certain it would boil him alive. But he managed to wrap his arms around Mafuyu anyway, pulling him close so that his head rested against his chest. With all the insulating layers between them it felt more like hugging an oversized teddy bear than anything else.

It was probably better that way. Uenoyama didn’t need any more reasons to feel anxious. 

A familiar, freshly calloused hand pressed against his heart. Mafuyu’s eyes were still shut, though, and Uenoyama could tell that he was dreaming. His lips were moving, forming soundless words. 

Uenoyama pulled Mafuyu closer. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to Mafuyu’s forehead in a light, brief kiss before closing his eyes, intending to let himself nap too.

“Yuki.”

The word was quiet but unmistakably clear.

A strangely painful feeling struck Uenoyama in the chest. He didn’t think it was jealousy, because he was fairly certain he would recognize it if it were. He wasn’t even sure there was a word for this sort of pain, the feeling that he couldn’t provide Mafuyu with what he wanted most.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “It’s just me. Uenoyama.”

Mafuyu nestled himself closer. His body stilled, no longer shivering nor mouthing mysterious words. He was peacefully asleep again, and Uenoyama let himself follow suit.

* * *

“Uenoyama-kun.”

Uenoyama woke to find an awake but still bleary-eyed Mafuyu gently shaking his shoulder. The sun was low in the sky, sending long shadows across the floor.

They’d been asleep for two hours at least.

“Uenoyama-kun?”

“Mmph. Hey.” Uenoyama sat up, rubbing his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks for keeping me warm,” Mafuyu said, smiling in his usual small way. He leaned against Uenoyama’s side, dropping his head on his shoulder.

“Are you already falling asleep again?”

“No. I just like being near you, Uenoyama-kun.”

It was embarrassing, really, that he still blushed when Mafuyu said things like that. He ought to have been used to it by now. Mafuyu said them all the time, after all. 

The truly embarrassing part was that Uenoyama would say them in return, with only half the confidence.

“Oh. Uh, me too.” He put his arm around Mafuyu’s shoulders. “Did you eat anything today?”

“Not since breakfast.”

“I’m going to warm up the soup I brought, then.”

“Hm,” Mafuyu hummed. “Okay.”

Mafuyu clung to him as he heated up the soup, arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder to watch what he was doing. Between the heavy warmth of his body and the heat from the stove, Uenoyama was beginning to feel uncomfortably hot. He said nothing, though, because he knew it was comforting to Mafuyu.

_ At least he isn’t shivering anymore. _

“I’m sorry you got sick,” he said, once he had coaxed Mafuyu to sit down at the table and eat. His first sip of soup had initiated a violent fit of coughing, which had caused Uenoyama no small amount of alarm. It subsided as quickly as it had come on, however, and now Mafuyu sat still, dutifully sipping his soup with his blankets wrapped around his shoulders.

“I’m mad about it,” Mafuyu said, in his usual gentle tone. Which didn’t sound mad at all. 

“Oh?”

“I had been working on a new song and I wanted to show it to everyone.”

“Hmph.” Uenoyama ruffled Mafuyu’s hair—which was already messy from being in bed all day—and smiled at the wide-eyed expression he made as he looked up at him. “Then you’ll just have to get better faster so that you can show me. Knowing you it’s probably already pretty good.”

Mafuyu blinked. “You’re always criticizing my music in rehearsal, though.”

“Well, yeah. That’s the only way you get  _ better _ . I wouldn’t say anything if I didn’t think you could improve.” He didn’t know how to interpret the blank, glassy-eyed expression on Mafuyu’s face. “I mostly criticize your playing, anyway. Your voice is always beautiful. And you’re good at coming up with ideas for the music itself.”

Mafuyu was still staring at him, glassy-eyed.

“You didn’t think I hated your music or anything, did you?”

The glassiness disappeared as he shook his head. “I just never thought of them as separate things.”

“Playing and writing?” Uenoyama had to think about it. “I think most people learn how to play first. Some people never even try writing their own stuff, they just play other people’s music. Kaji-san’s like that with the violin, I think. But people who are good at writing are also usually good at playing.”

“Except me.”

“Well, you’re new to both. Honestly, I think you must be a bit of a genius to be learning as fast as you are”

“A genius?”

Uenoyama found himself blushing again. 

Really, it was just a little bit stupid.

“Yeah,” he said, meeting Mafuyu’s wide eyes. 

How was it that Mafuyu could bear being so open and vulnerable like that? Uenoyama didn’t know what to do with so much trust. All he knew was that it made him want to protect Mafuyu. To make him happy, as best he could.

“I love playing music with you, Mafuyu.”

But somehow that was the wrong thing to say, because Mafuyu now looked like he was about to start crying. 

His first instinct was to hug Mafuyu, which had worked before—mostly—but the angle was awkward because of the table and he was afraid of spilling hot soup over them both, so he reached for the nearest part of Mafuyu and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Tears were now clearly falling down Mafuyu’s face.

Uenoyama sighed and stood up in order to hug him properly. “It’s okay,” he murmured, trying to sound cheerful and soothing and not fully convinced by his own performance. “Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

Slender arms wrapped around his waist and a fluffy head of hair buried itself into his stomach. It sounded, from the way his breathing came in choked off sobs, like he was trying to say something but couldn’t manage to get the words past his tears. So Uenoyama just rubbed his back in silence, hoping it would help him calm down. It didn’t take very long for the tears to fade, which was a relief. 

“Uenoyama-kun.”

His voice was uneven but perfectly clear.

“Yeah, I’m right here. I’m sorry, I didn’t know talking about that would upset you.”

“Please don’t apologize to me, Uenoyama-kun.”

“I made you  _ cry _ .”

Mafuyu shook his head. “Hearing you say that just made me so happy I didn’t know what to do about it.”

“You were crying because you were happy?” He smiled at Mafuyu, who smiled tearily back. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know.”

“I hate making you cry.”

“I know.”

He ran his hand through Mafuyu’s hair. “Hey. Did you write down the song you wrote? Or is it all in your head?”

“Hm?” Mafuyu suddenly seemed drowsy again, his head heavy against Uenoyama’s abdomen. He knew Mafuyu liked it when he rubbed his head like this, because he rubbed his head back against Uenoyama’s hand. It felt like being headbutted by a happy kitten. “Oh. Ah, it’s half written down.”

“Then after you finish eating we could work on it together a bit.”

“Mm.” Mafuyu reluctantly sat up straight again. “I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve barely eaten anything. Your body needs energy to recover.”

Mafuyu just stared at him, lips turned downwards in a small pout.

_ God dammit he’s cute.  _

Uenoyama felt his face turning red.

_ Don’t give in to it. _

“You need to eat, Mafuyu,” he said, as sternly as he could.

_ Jeez, I sound like my grandmother! _

Mafuyu widened his eyes, still frowning.

“I won’t let you waste away,” he said, exasperated. “I can make rice porridge instead, do you want that?”

“No.”

“Then stop acting like a toddler and just finish your soup.”

A small sigh. He turned back to the table, although he still leaned his upper body against Uenoyama.

“Now what’s wrong?”

Mafuyu tugged on the fabric of his shirt and said nothing.

“You want me to sit next to you?” A single, eager nod. “You can just say so, you know.”

But Uenoyama did as Mafuyu requested, and pulled his chair around so that he could put his arm around Mafuyu’s shoulders. Mafuyu did eat, which was good, although he continued to pout the whole time.

It really was unfortunate, how cute he looked when he was pouting.

_ Be strong. You can’t do anything right now. Especially not when he’s sick. _

As if to drive home the point, Mafuyu sneezed.

They settled themselves cross-legged on Mafuyu’s bed, Uenoyama plucking out the half-sketched song on Mafuyu’s guitar and Mafuyu with his blankets pulled over his head.

“You look like a hedgehog.”

“I like hedgehogs.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me, somehow,” Uenoyama said with a small laugh. “Do you want to try singing it? Or is your throat still too painful?”

“It’s not painful. I’m just afraid it won’t sound right.”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you get the right pitches.”

Mafuyu nodded. “I wrote a melody, but I still haven’t figured out all of the chord progressions.”

“That’s fine. We’ll work on them together.”

“And I’ve only got half of the lyrics, so the rest will just be ‘la la la’.”

“That’s more than you had before, isn’t it?” Uenoyama shifted closer so they could both read what Mafuyu had already written. “You sing it first, and then we’ll try you singing with me playing.”

“Okay.”

It took Mafuyu a moment to get the first note out. His voice still sounded beautiful, although it was much softer than it usually was when he sang. The melody was haunting but hopeful, the harmony in a brighter mode than usual, and the lyrics he had so far were about pathways in a forest. Mafuyu sang the whole thing with his eyes shut. At the conclusion he opened them, staring at Uenoyama with an open, curious expression.

“It’s good,” he said immediately. “You’re going for different sort of feeling than the last one, right? It sounds brighter but it also has this feeling of looking backwards and forwards at the same time.” Mafuyu nodded enthusiastically, looking truly happy for the first time all day. “Let’s do it with guitar.”

They worked out the chords for the first verse, arguing about what Mafuyu wanted it to sound like and what Uenoyama thought actually sounded good. They agreed in the end—although the process seemed to have exhausted Mafuyu, as he slowly began to lean over until he was fully pressed against Uenoyama again.

“You’re so clingy today,” Uenoyama said, putting the guitar down and tossing the heavily edited song onto Mafuyu’s desk.

“Does it bother you?”

“No. It’s just different.”

“It would be nice to be close like this all the time. But we can’t really do it when people are watching.”

Uenoyama wrapped his arms around Mafuyu, pulling him closer. “I’m sorry.”

“That isn’t your fault, though.”

He hesitated. “It still feels like cowardice.”

“There are already rumors about us, you know.”

“There are?”

“Well, about me, mostly.” Mafuyu’s expression was back to being blank and difficult to read. “Since Yuki and I didn’t really keep our relationship a secret. People have noticed that we’re together a lot now, too.”

“Oh. Yeah, I think I heard that, from someone who went to middle school with you. And my sister managed to figure out about us.”

“But your parents haven’t?”

“They aren’t that perceptive,” Uenoyama said, flatly. “You told your mom about us?”

Mafuyu nodded. “She knew about me and Yuki, too.”

Uenoyama didn’t like talking about Mafuyu’s dead boyfriend. It wasn’t because he was jealous—it was stupid, to be jealous of a dead person—but it just made him feel uneasy. The feeling was outweighed by his desire to support Mafuyu, but that still didn’t make it pleasant to think about.

“Um.” Uenoyama nudged Mafuyu, whose eyes had been falling shut. “You know that if you want to talk about— _ that _ —that I’ll listen, right? Even if I’m not good at knowing what to say.”

“I don’t know what to say, either,” Mafuyu murmured. “But yeah, I know. Uenoyama-kun is always kind to me.”

Uenoyama grunted. “Well, I’m trying anyway.”

Mafuyu rubbed his head against his shoulder. “You came over to take care of me. And then you helped me with the song.”

“And I made sure you didn’t starve.”

Mafuyu wrinkled his nose. “I wasn’t going to starve.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Uenoyama buried his nose in Mafuyu’s hair. “I liked being able to spend time with you like this, although it sucks that we only had the time because you’re sick.”

“Yeah.” Mafuyu’s voice was heavy with tiredness. “Uenoyama-kun.”

“Hm?”

“I think I’m going to fall asleep.”

Uenoyama smiled and sat up straight. He released his hold on Mafuyu, which made him pout again. It wasn’t difficult to convince him to lie down, though, and then it wasn’t long before his eyes fell shut. The only part of him not covered in blankets was his hand, which was still gripping Uenoyama’s.

“You’ll have to let go. I should leave before your mom gets home.”

Mafuyu mumbled something incoherent, already asleep.

A few more minutes, then. Uenoyama glanced at the clock, wondering when Mafuyu’s mother was supposed to return. Mafuyu hadn’t told him. He only knew that his mom worked an odd schedule because she was a nurse at a hospital. He’d only met her once, months ago. Just after he and Mafuyu had started dating. The thought of running into her now suddenly made him very anxious.

So, of course, she came in the door just as he was putting his shoes on.

“Uenoyama?”

“Satou-san!” Uenoyama jumped up and bowed, realizing as he did so that his shoes were still untied. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. Mafuyu told me he was sick so I came over to check on him.”

“Thank you for doing that,” she said. She was smiling at him, tired but genuine. It made her look remarkably like her son. “Mafuyu always seems to get sick suddenly, and it’s very difficult for me to get coverage for my shifts on short notice, so he has to stay here by himself too often. Some of his old friends used to come check on him, but…” The smile on her face faded. “Well, I’m sure you know what happened.”

“Oh. Um, yeah.”

Ms. Satou’s expression turned to one of quiet seriousness. “Uenoyama-san, I would like to talk to you.”

“Huh? Oh, of course.”

“You and Mafuyu play in a band together, right?”

He nodded.

“And you’re in a relationship.”

Uenoyama nodded again, not sure how else to respond.

“I was really worried about him after Yuki died,” she said quietly. “To be honest, I was afraid he might do the same thing. He seemed so lonely and lost, and I just didn’t know how to help him. But then he met you, and started playing music with your band, and it seemed to make him more… well,  _ alive _ . Like his old self again.” She smiled again, although more tired than before. “You make him really happy, you know. I wanted to thank you for it.”

Of all the conversations Uenoyama expected to be having with Mafuyu’s mother, this wasn’t among the ones he had prepared for. 

“You’re welcome,” he said, finally, because that was the customary response when someone thanked you for something—although it still felt strange to say. “He makes me really happy, too.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She hesitated. “Mafuyu told me that you are very kind to him, and I believe that. He didn’t have a father growing up, you know, and Yuki had been his close friend since they were small, so…” She took a deep breath. “Please be careful with him.”

He nodded, solemnly. “I will.”

“Good.” Some small amount of worry seemed to have fallen from her face. “Well, I’ll let you go home, then.”

“Thank you. Have a good evening,” Uenoyama said with another bow.

To his immense surprise, Mafuyu’s mother pulled him into a gentle hug.

“No, thank  _ you _ ,” she said. She let go quickly. “Good night, Uenoyama-san.”

Uenoyama had never been so relieved to leave someone’s home. He stood outside the door, feet fixed in place as his head spun with more thoughts and emotions he’d previously thought himself capable of feeling at any one time. Only one thing—he wasn’t sure if it counted as a thought or a feeling—stood out clearly, frightening and wonderful at the same time. It made his body strangely tingly. 

_ I’ll tell him another day. _

* * *


	3. Recapitulation and Coda

* * *

The evening air was cool and the side street outside the studio was dark and quiet. It wasn’t entirely empty of people, however, which might have explained why Uenoyama started slightly when Mafuyu slipped his hand into Uenoyama’s and tensed when he leaned into his side. But he didn’t tell Mafuyu to move, so Mafuyu didn’t, happy to be close to his warmth.

“You smell different,” Uenoyama said, as if it irritated him.

“My mom bought a different brand of shampoo because it was on sale.” Mafuyu couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You don’t like it?”

“No.” Uenoyama turned his face away so that Mafuyu couldn’t see it. “I just like the way you usually smell better.”

“After a while you won’t notice it anymore. I’ll just smell like this normally.”

Uenoyama let out a doubtful “hmph” and didn’t say anything else.

A stray cat walked out from a nearby alley, watching them with golden eyes. It stopped in front of them, blinked once, and then slunk away again under a particularly leafy bush.

“Hey, Uenoyama.”

“What?” Uenoyama’s eyes were fixed suspiciously on the place where the cat had disappeared.

“Do you want to have sex?”

“Huh?” The question had evidently surprised him, as Uenoyama turned back to him, eyes wide and face quickly turning red. “Um… You don’t mean right now, do you?”

“No. I meant sometime soon. Or just in general.”

Uenoyama nodded, eyes still wide. Mafuyu imagined that he could see the gears in his head moving faster than usual, being cranked frantically by a fleet of mini-Uenoyamas. He had to stop himself from laughing at the image.

“You can say no, if you want. I’m not pressuring you.”

“No, I… uh…” Uenoyama cleared his throat, back to his usual steady seriousness. “I want to. As long as you do, too.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Have you—you know—done it before?”

Mafuyu nodded. “Yeah. With Yuki. I was on bottom,” he volunteered, guessing that Uenoyama didn’t have quite enough nerve to ask. His face had gone very red, even in the cool darkness of the night.

“Ah.” 

“Have you?”

Uenoyama tensed again, now looking properly embarrassed. “No,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I’ve got exactly zero experience.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Uenoyama said, scowling. “I just don’t want to do it wrong.”

Mafuyu glanced around to make sure no one was watching before leaning up to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “You can do it. Guitar is much more difficult.”

“Why is that what you’re comparing it to?” Uenoyama grumbled. His expression was sour but he squeezed Mafuyu’s hand and dropped a light kiss on his forehead in return. “It’s getting late, we should head out.”

“Will you hold my hand all the way to the train station?”

“What, are you going to run off if I don’t?”

Mafuyu didn’t consider himself a mischievous or impulsive person; there was just something about being with Uenoyama, who was _so_ reserved and law-abiding, that made him want to push at the boundaries of his own propriety, if only a little bit. 

He stood up quickly, and before Uenoyama could really react, started running towards the main street, glancing behind him to see the indignant consternation on his face. It only made him laugh, and run faster.

“Oi!”

He wouldn’t run that fast, he decided; he _did_ want Uenoyama to catch him, after all.

* * *

“Do you want to come over tomorrow?”

“Hm?” Uenoyama looked up, in the middle of packing away his guitar. “Oh, yeah. Sure. You don’t want to go to my place, instead?”

“My mom is working a double shift tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“We could have s—”

“I get it, I get it!” Uenoyama said it too loudly out of panic, drawing the attention of their fellow band members.

Kaji nodded sagely. “Lovers’ quarrel,” he declared, as Haruki rolled his eyes.

“We aren’t quarrelling,” Mafuyu said, head tilted. “Talking about sex just makes Uenoyama-kun nervous.”

Kaji nodded again, as Haruki stiffened and froze in the middle of pulling his guitar case over his shoulders. “It embarrasses Haru-chan, too.”

“Akihiko!”

“What, it’s true, isn’t it?”

Uenoyama found himself wishing that the floor of the studio would crack open so that the earth could swallow him whole.

“Uenoyama-kun.”

It took him a moment to realize that Mafuyu was waving his hand in front of his face, and that Kaji and Haruki had both left.

“So you want to come over tomorrow?”

Uenoyama nodded, the gears in his brain grinding slowly back to their normal speed. “Yeah, as long as it’s okay with you.”

He knew it was a stupid thing to say, since Mafuyu was the one who had suggested it in the first place, and he knew Mafuyu knew this too. But all he did was smile at him, in that blithe, gentle way of his.

“I don’t want to race you to the train station again, though.”

* * *

Uenoyama stood in front of Haruki’s door, fists clenched with anxiety. It felt like there were two voices in his head, each trying to shout louder than the other.

_They’ll mock you mercilessly for this._

_You have nowhere else to turn._

_You’ll never be able to make eye contact with either of them during rehearsal again._

_Do you really want to be a virgin forever?_

Uenoyama clenched his jaw and rang the doorbell.

“Good morning, Uenoyama,” Haruki said. 

“Ue-sama!” Kaji appeared behind Haruki’s shoulder, shirtless and holding a steaming mug. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to ask you about something,” Uenoyama said, quietly and through gritted teeth, somehow worried that the neighbors would hear if he didn’t. “Can I come inside?”

“Sure, sure.”

Uenoyama stood in front of the two other band members, who had settled themselves on the couch after Uenoyama had steadfastly refused all offers of food, coffee, and tea. Both of them were watching him expectantly, Haruki with his characteristic worry and Kaji looking vaguely curious.

He took a deep breath before bowing deeply, so that his words were addressed to the floor.

“Please teach me how to be a good top!”

The resulting silence lasted long enough for several empires to rise and fall. It was broken by raucous, cackling laughter from Kaji. When he dared to glance up he saw that he was clutching his sides and Haruki had hidden his face in his hands.

“Uecchi, stop bowing,” Kaji said, once he had managed to stop laughing. “And Haruki, stop hiding your face.”

Haruki did lower his hands, revealing that his face had gone beet-red, but did not make eye contact with Uenoyama. “I’m not sure how appropriate it is,” he said, his voice a little weaker than usual. “You and Mafuyu are still underage.”

“I was younger than him when I first had sex,” Kaji said.

Haruki scowled at him. “You’re not helping,” he hissed.

“Oh, yeah.” Kaji’s expression turned thoughtful, his hand grazing his jaw. “You know, some of the best musicians in history were virgins their whole lives. You might not want to risk it.”

“Still not helpful!” Haruki sighed, and finally managed to look at Uenoyama directly. “Was this your idea, or Mafuyu’s?”

“He brought it up, having sex.”

“Has he done it before?”

Uenoyama nodded, feeling his face reddening to match Haruki’s. 

“Can’t you just look it up online?”

“Well, I tried searching,” he started, “But…” 

Kaji laughed. “Everything you found was porn, right?”

“Yes!” Uenoyama bowed again, lower this time. “Please help me. I have nowhere else to turn."

“Uenoyama, stop bowing and just _sit down._ ” Haruki seemed to have gotten over most of his embarrassment. “Akihiko and I are going to discuss this, please excuse us for a moment.”

“Huh? We are?” 

Haruki grabbed him by the arm and dragged him onto the balcony, slamming the sliding door shut behind them.

Uenoyama waited in silence, wondering if he was going to live long enough to lose his virginity or if he was going to spontaneously combust of embarrassment first.

“Okay,” Haruki said, returning to the living room with Kaji in tow. He was holding a small book in his hands; Uenoyama had been too dazed to notice when and where he’d picked it up. “Read that, and then if you still have questions you can ask Akihiko. Only ask me as a last resort, because I already don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at you during a performance again.”

“Okay,” Uenoyama said, taking the book. It was more of a pamphlet, really, like something that had come from a doctor’s office. “Thanks.”

“I am going to clean the kitchen,” Haruki declared, rushing away again.

“Oh, I’ll help,” Kaji said, chasing after him.

“Eh…?”

Mafuyu had told him that sex was easier than playing guitar, but Uenoyama was distinctly less convinced of this after reading the pamphlet in its entirety. He felt like all the information was spinning circles in his head, refusing to settle down into the form of useful information.

“I think we might have broken Ueno-kun,” Haruki whispered, glancing into the living room.

“I think we might have _killed_ Ueno-kun,” Kaji replied.

It only took him a few minutes to get enough of his brain cells functioning to actually vocalize the questions he did have, and it only took a few minutes longer for Kaji to answer them as well as he could. At the end of it Uenoyama found himself standing in the doorway again, a small tube and a handful of packets shoved toward him. “You’ll need those,” was all Haruki said.

“Good luck,” Kaji said solemnly, before closing the door behind him.

Uenoyama stared at the door, still clutching the bottle of lube and condoms in his hands. “...Thanks.”

* * *

It was a strangely overwhelming feeling, to be lying on his bed naked and sticky with sweat, and Uenoyama lying next to him, equally sweaty. His body felt pleasantly exhausted and his mind spun trying to process what exactly had just passed between them. And then there was Uenoyama, who was still planting kisses on the underside of his jaw and neck.

“Uenoyama-kun.” He rolled onto his side and put his hand on the side of Uenoyama’s face in an effort to make him hold still. “I’m too tired to keep going.”

Somehow he was still capable of being embarrassed, even after all of that. “Sorry,” he muttered, face flushing even redder than it already was. “I just… I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

Mafuyu smiled and leaned forward to kiss him properly, on the lips. “You’re so cute, Uenoyama-kun.”

Uenoyama’s expression went flat for a moment, like he was deciding how annoyed he was at being called cute. It shifted quickly to something more worried, forehead wrinkled and mouth tilted into a small frown. “Did you like it? Did I do okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Mafuyu hummed, wrapping his arms around Uenoyama’s neck. “It felt really good.”

Uenoyama seemed mollified. “Yeah, same here.” He glanced down at his own body, frowning slightly. “Although now I think I need to shower.”

“We could take a bath together.”

It was difficult not to laugh at the expression on Uenoyama’s face. He clearly wanted to say yes, and also seemed worried that he shouldn’t.

“Will we both fit? Your bath isn’t very big.”

“Yeah, we’ll fit.”

The reason Mafuyu knew this, of course, was that he and Yuki had managed to fit together just fine on several occasions. It seemed unnecessary to share this with Uenoyama, however. 

He had been worried, before, that he wouldn’t be able to focus properly on Uenoyama during sex, because he would be too caught up in comparing it to sex with Yuki. It turned out—thankfully—that sex was one of those intensely physical experiences that managed to pull all of his attention out of his mind and into his body. He couldn’t help but compare the two now, though, as Uenoyama had left to shower and then draw a bath for them both. He supposed he had been expecting him to be gentle and sweet and overly worried about Mafuyu’s comfort, because that was what he really was, at his core. He hadn’t expected Uenoyama to be so nervous, though. He and Yuki both shared a self-confidence which bordered on arrogance at times; but while Yuki had approached everything he did with a sense of bravado, Uenoyama seemed to have a clearer understanding of his own strengths and weaknesses. He was experienced at the guitar, so had no reservations about showing it; he had no experience with sex, and was correspondingly uncertain. 

_“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”_

_“I will.”_

_“Or if you want me to do something differently.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Or if I’m doing something wrong.”_

_“You’ll be fine,” Mafuyu said, silencing his protest with a firm, eager kiss._

His worries were baseless, it turned out. There had been only a small amount of the awkward fumbling Mafuyu remembered dominating his first few experiences with Yuki. He wasn’t sure exactly what he felt about this experience as a whole, but he was certain that he enjoyed it. 

He enjoyed bathing with Uenoyama, too, in a different, more relaxing way. He liked leaning back against his chest, feeling the warm water on his skin, listening to the steady sound of his breathing. Uenoyama didn’t seem terribly interested in talking, which was fine by him. He reached for the little rubber duck that had been sitting on the tub’s edge since he was small and amused himself by sailing it back and forth in front of him.

He felt Uenoyama’s hand touch the top of his head, and then begin carding gently through his damp hair. Mafuyu didn’t comment on it; he had the feeling Uenoyama would stop if he did. He allowed himself a small smile, instead.

“Hey, what is that?”

“Hm?” Mafuyu turned around to look at him. He’d been in the middle of dancing the toy duck up Uenoyama’s arm and hadn’t quite heard what he’d said.

“You’ve been humming this whole time. It sounds familiar. Is it the song you were working on?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

Uenoyama poked his forehead. “What good is it having musical talent like yours if you don’t even notice when you’re making music?”

Mafuyu chose to reply by tapping the duck’s beak against Uenoyama’s nose. He got a scowl in response, which just made him laugh.

“I’m glad you’re amused,” Uenoyama said flatly.

Mafuyu put down the toy and leaned forward to kiss Uenoyama instead, which seemed to have the appeasing effect he intended. He nestled himself into Uenoyama’s side, dropping his head against his shoulder and lacing their fingers together.

“This is nice,” he said.

And Uenoyama, at last, seemed fully relaxed as he draped his arm around him.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

* * *

  
  
  


_Coda_

Mafuyu flipped the light switch off and then slid under the covers beside Uenoyama, who wrapped his arm around his back.

“Good night,” Uenoyama murmured, eyes already shut.

“Uenoyama-kun.”

His eyes reluctantly fluttered open. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He could see that Uenoyama’s cheeks were red, even in the darkness of the room.

“Yeah, me too.” He blushed more as he realized what he’d said. “I mean, I love you too.”

How many times in his life had Mafuyu been this happy? He was sure he could count them on one hand. He didn’t, though. He kissed Uenoyama instead, who kissed him back, smiling sleepily.

“Good night.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when you get part of a song stuck in your head, so you listen to it beginning to end to get it un-stuck? I have that problem but instead of songs it's non-fetishizing LGBT representation and instead of listening beginning to end it's writing fanfiction.


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